Madison Bumgarner's first major-league batting practice suggested that he was promoted to the Giants for his offense. His swings are aggressive and, based on his Pujolsian line-drive out in the fourth inning in Tuesday's 4-3 loss to the San Diego Padres, even brazen. He is plainly not the type to work a count, making him an ideal Giant.

But the Bumgarner hitting angle is slightly misleading, like the other one floating around the park Tuesday afternoon - that he was going to be called up even before Tim Lincecum pretzeled himself out of Tuesday's game, which dropped the Giants three games behind Colorado in the National League wild-card race.

"No, as soon as I got the call from Gresh (trainer Dave Groeschner), we had to do it right then," general manager Brian Sabean said. "In fact, we were kind of lucky that he'd only pitched an inning since Sept. 1, because we didn't really have anyone else when Timmy's back got cranky."

Actually, the Giants did have an alternative. Joe Martinez, who had thrown four innings Saturday, could have gone as long as possible before employing all hands on deck - right in the middle of the wild-card race. Perfect.

But there's no lyricism in that. Bumgarner, the Next, Next Big Thing after Buster Posey, the Next Big Thing, was the only realistic choice to keep people away from high open windows when the news hit that Lincecum's back had turned snippy.

Then again, if you've ever seen Lincecum sit in a chair in the classically taught fashion, you'd be the first. He works a chair the way a wisteria works a tree trunk, by wrapping himself around it in improbable twists. Frankly, it's a wonder he doesn't make accordion noises when he moves.

So this time, after the flight from Milwaukee on Sunday, his back made its own noises, and Lincecum ended up missing a major-league start for the first time (except, of course, for last year's All-Star Game, which had nothing to do with sitting). This news would have caused much consternation among the cherubim and seraphim in GiantsWorld except that there had been nearly as much agitation for Bumgarner's promotion as there had been for Posey's.

In fact, Sabean said Bumgarner probably would have been called up before Sept. 1 had the Giants not been able to get Brad Penny. "We'd discussed it a lot, but we were pretty sure when we discussed it that Penny was going to get to us. Really, we were just waiting until he turned 20 and we could get around the child labor laws."

What the folks got was a steady stream of fastballs between 88 and 90 mph - 51 out of his 76 pitches, the rest sliders, cutters and a rare changeup. The Internetsia suggested this was a sign of arm-weariness, as he consistently hit 93-94 in the minors, but Sabean said it was in fact more a matter of San Jose pitching coach Ross Grimsley trying to force a more economical approach on Bumgarner. "He was getting a little fastball-happy," Sabean said, talking about his reduced velocity, "and we just wanted him to stop trying to strike everyone out."

That advice seemed to bore its way into Bumgarner's head, as he made up for whatever velocity he might have lost by getting the Padres' hitters to persistently pound the ball into the ground in the early going. He also would drift the occasional four-seamer up in the zone, which is how Chase Headley and Kevin Kouzmanoff took him deep in the second and fourth innings, the only two Padres runs in his 51/3 innings.

What comes next for Bumgarner, though, is the intriguing part. Sabean said he wouldn't stay in the rotation unless Lincecum's back stays hinky, or if Penny gets suspended for thinking what he'd like to do to Dodgers third-base coach Larry Bowa this weekend. Bumgarner won't suddenly inherit a late-inning role even if Jeremy Affeldt's arm gets touchy again. Bumgarner isn't even a reasonable bet to make the postseason roster.

"Hey, anything's possible," Sabean said unconvincingly. "There's precedent enough for it in other places. But that would be unlikely."

Then again, so was his hasty promotion. He didn't stagger anyone with his first sales meeting, but he managed to diminish the sense of doom that Lincecum's absence normally would have created, which is almost as comforting to the customers.

That is, of course, if the fan base can keep from pulverizing itself with whips and saying, "See? We always told you Lincecum would break down."